


Family Reunion

by Gemmiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10.09, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Spoilers, preslash, the things we left behind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2744750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemmiel/pseuds/Gemmiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas meet for lunch and talk about the things on their mind. Just a few ideas about what might happen in 10.09, based on the sneak peek for "The Things We Left Behind," with dialogue from that clip. Spoilers!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Reunion

_He found himself on his knees in the center of a featureless room, breathing heavily. Around him were scattered headless bodies, hacked brutally apart by some knife-wielding assailant. Blood spattered the walls and pooled on the floor. He knelt there in shocked horror, chest heaving, the coppery scent of blood thick in his nostrils, and stared blankly around at the carnage, wondering what sort of monster could have killed so viciously and casually._

_He glanced down, and sudden appalling comprehension made his chest tighten and his throat squeeze shut._

_In his hand, he clutched a blood-stained knife._

*****

Dean Winchester jolted awake, sitting up with a jerk. His heart pounded painfully, so hard he could hear his own blood rushing in his ears, but the comfortable familiarity of his surroundings was reassuring. He was in his own bed at the bunker, surrounded by the things he loved most. His heartbeat began to slow.

It dawned on him that he’d been awakened by the sound of a phone. He groped blearily for the cell next to the bed, and swiped his thumb over the screen. “’Lo?” he mumbled.

“Hello, Dean.”

He knew the deep, gravelly voice as well as he knew his own face in the mirror, or the feel of a gun in his hand. The voice had become so deeply interwoven into his existence over the past six years that he could no longer envision a life without it. His mouth curved of its own accord, and his heartbeat slowed further.

“Hey, Cas. How you doin’?”

“I am all right,” the angel answered. “I am not far away, and I wondered if you would like to ‘meet up’ for lunch.”

Dean grinned, because in his mind’s eye he could see Cas making air quotes. “Sure,” he said easily. Castiel had helped save him from himself, helped Sam drive the demon out and restored Dean to something close to normal, but then he’d taken off with no explanation, hardly taking the time to say goodbye. Dean had gotten used to the angel coming and going as he pleased, even if Cas couldn’t just poof out of existence any more, so he hadn’t minded. Much.

Still, the thought of seeing Cas made a pleased warmth settle into the depths of his stomach. “Why don’t you come on by the bunker,” he said, “and I’ll cook you some burgers.”

“Not the bunker,” Cas said.

Dean suppressed the faint spark of hurt he felt that the angel didn’t want to come home. Not that Cas had ever gotten a chance to settle into the bunker, not really. Dean had had a room all set up for him when the angel who’d hijacked Sammy had insisted Dean kick Cas out. And once they’d gotten rid of Gadreel, Cas had been too busy with angel business to come back for long. But this was Cas’ home too, damn it.

He wondered if Cas knew that.

“Okay,” he said, trying to sound indifferent. “You want to meet me somewhere, then?”

“Yes,” Cas answered. “There is a diner I found while traveling. I think you would like it…”

Dean wrote down the address Cas gave him, then said goodbye and hung up. He rose to his feet, most of the details of the nightmare forgotten now. That slightly creepy feeling he always got when he had a bad dream still hung around the corners of his mind like a dark and foreboding haze, but it would fade. It always did.

He looked at himself in the mirror over the chest opposite his bed, and frowned a little. It was nice to see green eyes looking back at him, instead of the inky black ones he'd sported as a demon, but he nevertheless looked a little scruffy. Maybe more than a little. 

Well, he’d been working in the bunker, sorting out artifacts in the storerooms while Sammy catalogued documents in the enormous library, and he’d hardly seen the light of day for a week now. There wasn’t a lot of point in bothering to shave when Sammy was the only one who saw him, after all. But since he was going out in the world, he really ought to shave and shower, maybe put on a fresh shirt and a wrinkle-free pair of jeans...

His reflection smirked at him.

“Shut _up,_ ” he told the mirror. “It’s not like that, damn it. I’m not making myself pretty for him or anything. I just need a goddamn shave.”

His reflection looked unconvinced. Dean snorted, annoyed, and spun on his heel, heading for the bathroom.

*****

Three hours later, the Impala pulled up in front of the diner Cas had specified. The sun was shining, and it was a beautiful day. Dean was still aware of the shadows of his nightmare lurking in the corners of his mind, but he'd done his best to drive them away by singing loudly to Led Zeppelin all the way there.

Fortunately, there was no one to criticize his singing. He was alone, because he’d informed Sammy he was going stir crazy and needed to go out for a drive. Sam had looked at his freshly shaved face, neatly brushed hair, and brand new plaid shirt, and had said only, “Mmm-hmmm.”

He knew Sam figured he was going out to get laid, but he didn’t give a fuck what Sammy thought. It was probably better if Sam imagined he was going out to bang some random chick, anyway, because if he knew Dean was going to see Cas he’d want to tag along. And Dean wanted Cas all to himself. 

And no, not in a weird way. He just wanted to see his best friend by himself for once. So what? There wasn’t anything wrong with that, was there? He hadn’t hung out with Cas nearly enough lately. Yeah, the two of them had been texting back and forth, and Dean never failed to pray to the angel in the evening, but it just wasn’t the same. 

The truth was, he kind of missed his little feather duster. 

He pushed the door open. Cas, he admitted to himself, had good taste. The place wasn't classy or anything, but it was clean and bright, with checked tablecloths and a nice-looking bar. He looked around and spotted Cas already seated at a table. Cas waved him over, making no effort to stand up.

That was cool. That was fine. It wasn't like he wanted to give Cas a hug, here in front of all these strangers. Because yeah, he'd missed his friend, but hugging him in public still felt kind of weird. He wasn't sure why. He wouldn't hesitate to hug Charlie, or even Garth, in public, but with Cas it was different somehow.

"Hey," he said, and dragged out the chair next to Cas instead of across the table from him, so they could talk easier. His knee kind of bumped against Cas' as he sat down, but Cas didn't seem to mind the contact, and Dean didn't yank his leg away. There wasn't a lot of room under the table for two long-legged guys, so the fact that their knees were brushing together didn't seem at all strange or unusual.

"Hello, Dean." Cas looked him over carefully, with that unnerving angelic stare that seemed to look right through him. "You are looking better."

Dean knew perfectly well Cas wasn't commenting on his new shirt, but he felt his cheeks flush anyway. "Yeah. Thanks. So... they got burgers here?"

*****

"Is ketchup a vegetable?"

Cas was holding a ketchup bottle, studying it thoughtfully, while Dean stuffed his mouth. Dean swallowed a mouthful of burger-- damn good burger, at that-- and grinned.

"Hell, yes. The only vegetable worth eating, if you ask me." He saw the serious tilt to the angel's mouth, and sobered. "All right, spill. What's with the family reunion?"

The truth was, he was sort of hoping that Cas would say, _No particular reason, I just wanted to see you,_ or even, _I simply missed you, Dean._ Because it would be nice to know that Cas kinda missed him, too. But instead Cas frowned thoughtfully at the bottle in his hands, then placed it on the tablecloth.

"I don't know," he answered, resting his elbows on the table and his hand on his chins in a gesture that was so human Dean's heart clenched. He covered his reaction by swiping Cas' burger, since the angel didn't usually eat when he was all powered up. Cas didn't try to bat his hands away, so he obviously had his mind on things other than food. He went on seriously, "I've just been thinking about people. I've helped some... but I've hurt some, too."

Dean took a big bite of Cas' burger. It was juicy and good, just as the other had been. "So you're having a midlife crisis," he said through a full mouth.

Cas didn't look disgusted by his lack of table manners, the way Sam would have. He gazed into the distance, doing his angel thing, and answered, "I'm extremely old. I think I'm entitled."

Dean chewed, thinking about the best way to respond. He was always sort of flattered that a billion-year-old being came to him for advice, and he didn't want to say the wrong thing. At last he said, "Cas, listen to me. Some stuff you just gotta let go. Okay? The people you let down, the ones you can't save... you gotta forget about them." He tapped his temple for emphasis. "For your own good."

Cas speared him with that unnervingly intense stare, and Dean's gaze flickered away, because having the angel look through him like that was always a little creepy. Or hot. No, hot was totally not the right word. He covered his confusion by swigging water.

"Is that what you do?" Cas said at last.

"That's the opposite of what I do. But..." He lifted his head and grinned at the angel. "I ain't exactly a role model."

Cas continued to look at him, and the gaze became so intense it almost hurt. "That's not true."

Their gazes met and held. Dean felt his cheeks heating again, and he looked away. When he looked back, Cas was still staring at him.

"How are you, Dean?"

Dean shrugged. "Fine."

Cas lifted his eyebrows and cocked his head. Considering Dean had been black-eyed and trying to murder Sammy not too long ago, he couldn't blame the angel for his lack of belief. But he was okay, wasn't he? After all, here he was with Cas, hanging out with his best friend and chowing down on really good burgers. Life was fine. Better than fine. Things were awesome.

"I'm great," he insisted. "Really."

"No," Cas said, his eyes full of concern and affection and some emotion Dean didn't want to examine too closely. "You're not."

Dean sighed, thinking he should've known better. He could fool himself, but he could never fool Cas. The angel knew him too well. "Yeah, well... I lost the black eyes. That's a plus, right? But I still have this..." He smacked the Mark on his forearm. 

"Is it still affecting you?"

Despite himself, Dean remembered the images from his dream, the blood spattered everywhere, on the floor on the walls on _him_ , the feel of the knife in his hand, the horror gripping him as he realized what he'd done, realized he was a killer, that he'd always be a killer...

"Dean?"

Cas' voice brought him back to reality. He stared at the angel for a moment, the remembered horror of the dream making his heart pound fiercely against his ribs.

"Cas," he blurted out, "I need you to promise me something."

"Of course."

"If I do go darkside... you gotta take me out."

Cas looked simultaneously confused and alarmed. "What do you mean?"

"Knife me, smite me, throw me into the freakin' sun, whatever. And don't let Sammy get in your way, because he'll try." He heaved a sigh, and spoke the cold, hard truth. "I can't go down that road again, man. I can't be that thing again."

"Dean..." Cas looked at him, so much affection in the blue eyes that it hurt. "I can't kill you."

"You might have to, Cas. I mean, someone's got to if I... Look, buddy, you can't let me kill people. You just can't. Even though we're friends..."

"More than friends," Cas said gently. "But that isn't what I meant. I _can't._ I'm leaving, Dean."

Dean gaped at him. "You're what?"

"Hannah. The angel I was traveling with. She made me see what I've avoided seeing, that I have hurt people simply by being here on Earth. What I did to Jimmy Novak--"

"He agreed to this, Cas. Both times."

"The first time," Cas said quietly, "he did not fully understand what he was committing himself to."

Dean remembered Jimmy's voice. _Angel inside you, it's kind of like being chained to a comet._ And later: _I've been shot and stabbed and healed, and my body has been dragged all over the Earth. By some miracle, I'm out, and I am done._

"The second time," Cas went on, "he only gave himself to me in order to spare his daughter the same fate."

Dean couldn't argue that. He knew that Jimmy would never have gone back voluntarily. He said, weakly, "But if you hadn't taken Jimmy as a vessel..."

"Then I would not have lifted you from Perdition, and you and I would not have become... friends. Yes. It is difficult for me to regret my actions, considering all that has happened, all that I have accomplished in this vessel. I have done many good works, and committed as many sins. But now..." He sighed, and looked at Dean as if willing him to understand. "I need to atone for my sins, as much as I am able. Hannah showed me what was right. She realized her vessel had a right to her own life, and vacated it, returning to Heaven."

Dean swallowed hard. The thought of a world without Cas in it left him reeling. There was still half a cheeseburger left on his plate, but it no longer looked even remotely appetizing. "So you're going to give your vessel back to Jimmy," he said dully.

"Jimmy?" Cas looked momentarily puzzled, then his frown cleared away. "No. Jimmy is gone, and has been for years. Otherwise I could not have occupied this body as a human. Jimmy has gone on to his true home in Heaven. I wish I could return this vessel to him, and repair the wrong I did him that way, but it is impossible. But he is not the only human I have wounded over the years I have been on Earth. He is not the only person I've left behind."

Dean frowned at him, then remembered a slim, blonde woman and an equally golden-haired little girl. "Amelia and Claire."

"I have been 'Googling,'" Cas said, making air quotes. Despite himself, Dean couldn't help smiling a little. "Amelia is missing, and no one knows what has become of her."

Dean frowned. "Possessed by a demon again?"

"It could be. I have found no good leads, unfortunately. But because both her parents are missing, Claire Novak is in the custody of the State of Illinois, and she is currently residing in a school for troubled youngsters."

Dean blinked, taken aback. He had barely met Claire Novak, but he remembered her as a small, fragile little thing. A pretty little girl with long shining hair and a sweet smile. It was hard to imagine her as a juvenile delinquent. But then again... "She all grown up now?"

"She is seventeen. And I intend to take care of her."

"Oh. Jesus, Cas, are you planning to go be a father to a teenager? Are you _serious?_ "

"I now see that I have a duty to this young woman," Cas said solemnly. "A duty I have been shirking."

"Yeah, but... listen, Cas, do you know what human teenagers are _like?_ "

"I am aware that they are considered to be willful and stubborn. But as I am a celestial being--"

"No," Dean said, putting his hand on the angel's shoulder. "No, no, no. Listen, Cas, I raised a teenager. Willful doesn't begin to cover it, trust me. Handling a teenager is nothing like anything you've ever experienced, okay?" 

A corner of Cas' mouth lifted. "You make it sound like dealing with a demon."

"It's tough," Dean admitted. "Especially when they're as hardheaded as Sammy was-- and Claire probably is too, or she wouldn't where she is. But she's practically grown up now, Cas. Why not just..."

"This is my responsibility." Cas scowled dangerously, looking more like an Angel of the Lord than a holy tax accountant. "This is what I must do." He swallowed, and looked less sure of himself. "It takes precedence even over my responsibility to you, Dean. To my... friend." He looked at Dean with big blue eyes. "Surely you can see that?"

Like Dean could ever say no to those eyes. But he didn't want to be one of the people Cas left behind, either. He reached out, awkwardly, and patted Cas on the shoulder. "Yeah. Yeah, I get it. You go do what you gotta do, buddy. But listen-- this isn't something you have to do alone. She's been a vessel, remember? She might be a target for all kinds of baddies. You gotta keep her safe, so once you get custody of her, why don't you bring her back to the bunker?"

Cas blinked. "I did not think you would want--"

"The bunker is your home too, Cas." Dean realized his hand was still on Cas' shoulder. He didn't seem able to pull it away. "I don't know if I ever made that, you know, clear enough. I never wanted to kick you out, and... well, you belong there. You're family. We want you there." He gulped. "I want you there."

"Family," Cas echoed. He smiled faintly. 

"Yeah, family. And family sticks together. So you bring her back to the bunker, and if anything happens to me, at least you and Sam can..."

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Cas said firmly. "I will not permit it."

"Look, Cas, I already told you--"

"I heard you. But if you 'go darkside,' as you put it, we will come up with a solution that does not involve your death. The three of us are resourceful." He smiled, and echoed back something Dean had once said to him. "We can fix this, Dean."

"Even if it's broken?"

"Yes. No matter what... we can fix it." Cas put his hand briefly on Dean's, then rose to his feet, shrugging off Dean's hand. "It is time for me to go, Dean. I planned to say goodbye, but if I will be bringing Claire back to the bunker, then I will merely say... see you soon."

"Okay." Dean rose to his feet as well. "Hey, listen, buddy. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"And you as well." Cas studied him carefully, as if looking through him, straight down to his soul. "The Mark is under control right now. Unless something unusual happens, you should not 'go darkside' any time soon."

"But if it does--"

"I will return to the bunker soon, Dean. I promise. And then we will work on a more permanent solution to your problem... and mine as well."

The angel put his arms around Dean and hugged him. Dean almost made his usual litany of objections-- _dude, we're in public, people are staring, how many times have we talked about personal space, Cas?_ \-- but it was Cas, after all. He wrapped his arms around his angel and held him tight, and the warmth of the hug pushed the remembered darkness of his dream away.

Things were gonna be okay, he thought, hanging onto Cas for all he was worth. As long as Cas was with him, the two of them could handle anything, from an out-of-control teenager to a Mark from Hell. They'd handle it all together.

"See you soon," he muttered into Cas' hair. 

"Yes." Cas pulled away, and smiled up into his eyes. "See you soon."


End file.
